100.000 page book?

Work on a book from the project has been underway for some time now, having joined forces with the renowned photo book designer Bergdis Sigurdardottir. With over 200.000 images to work from, this will most likely be one of the most edited photo books to date, making me wonder why the hell I decided to go on another trip to the north, shooting over 1000 photos. The answer I know, but whether it makes any sense im less sure of. 

The snowy frozen north did result in some amazing photographs, as the light increase from the last trip in December makes a big difference. Frozen rivers and groups of horses, stuck tractors and the early morning sun hitting the tops of mountains. I have a few ways of justifying what I do.

Freezing my ... off.

10 days before the years shortest day, I passed a dark and snowy landscape on my way to the north. Sunrise and sunset seem to coincide, giving the smallest window of light to photograph. For 3 hours I photographed blurred bluish images of farm lights and out of focus mountain tops. The snow finally turned white, and the outside world appeared, frozen. The streets of Akureyri were covererd with snow and the cold felt bitter. Inhaling felt like freezing the insides of the lungs, and the short walk to the grocery felt refreshing. 

Morning after I took the bus to the town of Egilsstaðir. The darkness that wouldnt lift for the first 2 hours was not the only issue, as the -25c temperatures froze the heat from my hand as I leaned against the window to photograph. Every 15 seconds I had to wipe the inside of the window of the quick forming ice, or forget and sense the blurry effect take over the viewfinder. 

The few hours of sunlight did make the trip worthwhile, with mountaintops bathed in a pink light of the setting sun, with the foreground going into the shadow. Stories were told of the solitary characters who in earlier times were the only ones to venture into this landscape in winter, searching for lost sheep as the threat of winter meant some else and more then a chilly bus ride.

Back on Ice

Even the Moab winter is warm, and the desert sandstone contradicts the Icelandic winter. While bacon breakfeasts and pickup trucks maintain their charm in my mind, the cold desolate countryside of Iceland pulls me back, and tomorrow I´ll be on a bus passing these cold empty landscapes, camera in hand. 

Wyoming

Along with photographer James Balog, I headed to Wyoming, the sparsely populated cowboy state, where shotguns and pick-up trucks rule supreme. The Grand Tetons in sight, I aimed my weapon, my semi automatic Nikon, shooting, shooting, hitting my grand prey of 9.000.000 millions years old mountains. Blue skies, massive mountains, and 400 hundred photographs created the first Inland/Outland video in the United States of America.

Truckloads of coffee, acid and a knife threat

With my departure to the US approaching, I have been using every chance to head out of town and shooting the autumn feeling that is creeping over the landscape. Sheep have come down from their mountain grazing and sheepishly stand in their dozens on green patches of grass while the mountain tops have gotten their white top crowns. The sun is traveling lower in the sky, casting a more golden light on everything in its path.

So with all this to pull me along, I left Reykjavik on a thursday morning, heading to Akureyri in the north. 30 meters per hour winds greeted me and the truck driver under the steep mountain of Hafnarfjall. We and the cargo of coffee beans reached safety, and soon I boarded a second truck for the last stretch in the north. The cargo was death in a container. Tons of some sort of industrial acid shook the car as I photographed or read the safety instructions in case of accident. Burns, explosions, corrosion etc. Bottom line- RUN!

700 images were on the memory card as we rolled into Akureyri, were soon I was sitting sipping an espresso in a local coffeehouse, minding my own business. A young traveler started a conversation that was leading nowhere except to misunderstandings. His eyes constantly on me with a strange mad stare, he got ready to leave. As he did, he pulls up his pants, revealing a large hunting knife by his ankle, madly speaking of what such instruments were used for by his best friend in Afghanistan. Nice way to be greeted, but i would have been content with only the cold chill in the air. 

In the night I boarded a truck, being warned of some strong winds on the way. Nothing new there, and the setting sun was casting a mellow light to calm me down after the knife scene. As light gave way to darkness, conversations reached the more interesting subjects of life, and all was good. At that point sleep was the only thing left to do after changing trucks and heading back to Akureyri. Sleep I did, but by the constant sound of sport cars and screeching tires outside my downtown hostel. 

So here i sit, in a huge gas station where Madonna sings her 80´s hits to the anouncement of fried food being ready. Im ready to take a break for a few days.